


Distractions

by HyphenL



Series: Open For Business (Fills) [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Silly angst, somewhat fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 05:09:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1456666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HyphenL/pseuds/HyphenL
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt by StockAce</p><p>What about Will and Hannibal getting in a huge fight (for stupid reasons?) and not talking to each other for days cause they're both so stubborn, but eventually Hannibal can't take it anymore and wants to make peace. Lots of fluff and make-up sex?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distractions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StockAce](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=StockAce).



The first time Will missed his appointment, Hannibal forgave him with friendly grandeur.

The second time, he made a subtle joke.

The third time, he called.

The fourth time, he drove all the way to Will's house to find him sat in his old chair, watching the TV with a bottle of beer in hand.

 _Very rude_ , Hannibal had said.

Will Graham managed to get ruder during the explanation that followed, fidgeting for poor excuses to get rid of his therapist. Had Will been any other patient, Hannibal would have suggested a referral. But he didn't want to risk losing him.

Will was twitching queasily, mumbling how sorry he was and avoiding Hannibal's eyes, lying to his teeth.

“How can I support you if you don't come to our sessions?” Hannibal asked. “Should I drive all the way up here every time?”

“ _Why the fuck did you even do that?_ ” Will retorted, his pupils wide with nervousness. “ _Therapists don't do that. You're more a stalker than a therapist!_ ”

Hannibal had stilled. His nostrils flaring, wondering if Will was really worth the trouble.

Then he'd bid the young man goodnight, and drove home with clenched teeth.

He'd waited a whole week for Will to call and apologise. He'd waited three hours straight to see him appear at his door on the day of his appointment. Then he'd killed a taxidermist in the most horrible way, hoping for the trauma to bring Will back to him.

Finally, he'd cooked Cajun cuisine, put it away in neat Tupperwares and driven again to Will's house in Virginia. He'd straightened his hair and clothes before knocking, glaring at a spot of mud on his bright polished shoe.

When Will opened the door, he looked terrible.

“The fuck are you doing here?” he mumbled, his breath stinking of cheap whisky and canned food.

Hannibal breathed deeply, mastering the patience to answer politely. “I think we should settle our issue once and for all” he stated. “I brought dinner. May I come in?”

“Sure” Will groaned, dragging his feet like a drunk inside the house.

He disappeared in another room and, as Hannibal was setting the table, he heard the rumbling of a shower starting. When Will reappeared, he was wearing a clean T-shirt and pants, and smelled passably.

He hadn't put on any aftershave.

“Is that Cajun?” the young man asked when he noticed the food. “Smells good.”

“Thank you” Hannibal answered, serving Will a large portion of food.

“Why are you doing this?”

The older man looked at Will. “Even though you refuse for us to meet, I am still your therapist” he reminded him.

“No you're not” Will blurted out. “I told Jack to give me another one. He didn't mention it?”

Hannibal hadn't talked to Jack in days, trying to avoid the subject of Will.

“Was I not adequate?” Hannibal answered, calmly. “Could you please indicate me my faults, so I would correct them for other patients.”

Will cringed. “It's not your fault.”

“Then please, enlighten me on the matter, Will.”

Hannibal sat in front of his plate, focusing on the food to avoid letting anger get the best of him. He took a mouthful and sighed. At least dinner was good.

Will fumbled around the food with his fork. “It's... complicated.”

“Try me.”

Will hesitated. Then he closed his eyes and sighed. “I can't concentrate during our sessions” he said. “I'm... distracted.”

Hannibal swallowed, in ponder. Was this about his accent? He would so murder an English teacher on his way back.

“You're, uh. I'm... attracted to you” Will let out, embarrassed. “I can't have a session with a person I'm attracted to. I don't even know what I'm saying.”

Hannibal blinked. That was new.

“When you say 'attracted', do you mean...”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

Hannibal resumed his dinner. “You could have told me.”

“You should have given me a referral.”

The older man looked at Will, who was studying him in ponder. “A good therapist would have. Are you an unethical therapist, Dr Lecter, or were you simply as distracted as I was?”

Obviously, Hannibal wasn't going to tell how unethical he could be. “Are you asking me if I'm attracted to you too?” he replied.

“Do you always drive to the middle of nowhere to meet eloping patients?”

Hannibal smirked, slightly. “I do not.”

“Do you cook for them?”

“I don't use to.”

“Then maybe we don't have a problem” Will stated, pushing away his plate. Hannibal almost frowned at his food being rejected as such. He changed his mind when a soft hand stroke the side of his face. “Maybe it's even better that you're not my therapist anymore” Will murmured.

Hannibal suddenly remember he was lifting a fork, caught up in mid air. He nonchalantly put it down.

The moment after, Will was kissing him.

It was so soft Hannibal found himself comparing it to an airy pastry, before noticing he was responding to the kiss, tasting mint toothpaste and the aftertaste of whisky on Will's tongue.

The hands in his hair felt good.

“If this is how you settle fights” he murmured as Will's lips were leaving his, “then we should fight a lot more.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> > Send prompts here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1451776/chapters/3056608


End file.
